


Her Father's Scar

by sweetiepie08



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Family, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, zuko and Izumi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 00:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16964685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiepie08/pseuds/sweetiepie08
Summary: Izumi never used to question why her father had a scar, but as she got older, she began to wonder. The answer shocks and disturbs her. She can't stop thinking about it. And she begins to wonder how different her father is from Ozai.





	Her Father's Scar

Izumi never asked her father about his scar. When she was younger, it was just a part of him, same as his eye color or hair style. It was just his face, the face of a man who picked her up when she fell, who taught her the very basics of fire bending, who always made time to tuck her into bed and kiss her goodnight. Some of her playmates thought the scar made him look scary, but she knew better. She never had a reason to question where the scar came from. He was her father, he had a scar, and she didn’t need to know more.

As she got older, she became more curious. She began to question why things were the way they were. She had a very analytical mind and could put answers together from bits of information. In fact, she liked it. Riddles and thought puzzles were some of her favorite things and she was always pestering her Uncle Sokka for a new one when he visited. When she ran out of puzzles, she turned to real world questions to exercise her mind.

The subject of her father’s scar came around again. She found herself staring at it one evening at the dinner table. He brought some work with him, it wasn’t unusual, and looked over some documents while he ate. His good eye scanned the paper, leaving his scarred eye in full view. He noticed her staring and asked what was wrong. She said “nothing” and went back to her food. She’d been scolded enough for her blunt questions to know it was rude.

Instead of asking, she decided to put the information together herself. She mulled it over as she lay in bed that night. Thinking about a mundane question always helped her sleep. She knew her father was a great firebender and she’d seen his power for herself. She knew he became war hero at a very young age and fought a legendary duel to win the throne. From this, she could conclude that he fought many battles in his youth and reasoned that he could have been injured in one. She also knew several kids who were injured while training and sported a few small scars herself. The scar could have also come from a training accident, though she couldn’t imagine any sane firebending master aiming for a student’s face.

She drifted off before she could reach a definitive conclusion, but battle or training seemed the most likely answers. By the next day, it was forgotten. Her question was lost amongst her childhood worries of school, friends, and firebending training. She didn’t think about it again until a few weeks later, when the subject was brought up in class.

It was a history lesson and they were learning about the end of the hundred year war. Most children the world over knew the tale. Izumi knew even more since her father and various aunts and uncles lived it. Uncle Sokka and Aunt Toph especially loved to regale the children with stories of their time fighting evil and restoring balance. Aunt Katara said they exaggerated a little, but from what Izumi read in the history books, they didn’t need to.

The teacher was telling them about how then-Prince Zuko defected from Firelord Ozai and joined up with the avatar. She could feel eyeballs on her and turned to see Jiro, a boy in her class who she couldn’t stand, watching her. They’d been at odds ever since she overheard him boasting that his great uncle Zhao was an admiral during the 100 year war. He didn’t appreciate Izumi pointing out that his great uncle would be a war criminal by modern standards. Maybe she didn’t need to pick a fight, but her father and Great Uncle Iroh always impressed on her the importance of remembering history correctly so as to learn from its mistakes.

Izumi brushed off Jiro’s nasty stare and kept listening to the teacher. He’d looked at her like that before and it usually meant he was going to bother her at recess. His grandfather was an Ozai loyalist and his father was a fairly vocal critic of Firelord Zuko’s policies. They weren’t dangerous, just annoying. When she asked her father why he didn’t force them to stop criticizing him, he explained that silencing opposition was something tyrants did, and the Fire Nation had to show the world they weren’t tyrants. It made sense, but it didn’t make listening to Jiro parroting his father’s condemnations any easier.

As predicted, he found her during recess. She was minding her own business, reading her book and occasionally stopping to talk with a few friends, when Jiro approached her.

“Interesting lesson in class today, huh Princess?”

“Uh huh,” Izumi grumbled, not bothering to look up from her book.

“Of course, the teacher got some facts wrong. Firelord Zuko didn’t just defect because he wanted to. Firelord Ozai banished him first.”

“You’ve got your facts wrong,” Izumi said, closing her book. “My father was banished for three years and was welcomed back three months before he joined the Avatar. He defected because he realized it was the right thing to do.”

“Yeah, but do you know why he was banished?” Jiro asked with his slimy smirk.

“I do know.” Izumi stuck her chin up proudly. “My father spoke out against a plan that would betray the Fire Nation’s own citizens. Firelord Ozai didn’t like that, so he banished him.”

“That might be what people say now, but my father told me the real reason.” Jiro’s grin grew wider. “My dad said Firelord Zuko humiliated himself during an agni kai. Firelord Ozai was so disgusted, he burned his son’s face and banished him so he couldn’t embarrass the royal family anymore.”

“That’s a lie,” Izumi snapped. She couldn’t imagine a father burning his own child like that, even if he was a tyrant. She knew an agni kai was involved somehow in her father’s banishment, but she was never told this detail.

“It’s true,” Jiro argued. “My grandfather was a spectator at that agni kai. I guess that’s what the Firelord does when his kids displease him. You might want to watch out.”

“I know my father better than you,” Izumi retorted. “I know he’d never do that to me.”

“I bet that’s what Firelord Zuko thought too.”

Izumi kept her lips firmly together. She knew what he was trying to do. Jiro wasn’t interested in debating political history. He just wanted to set her off. _Stay calm. You’re a princess. You’re better than petty fights._

“I wonder if your father is already planning on doing that to you.”

Izumi kept silent, but her glare darkened.

“I bet he already hates you.”

“Shut up!” She couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“I mean, didn’t you kill your mom?”

That did it. With a shout, Izumi shot a fireball at Jiro. He jumped out of the way and shot his own back. “See? Just like your Grandfather Ozai,” he taunted.

Izumi felt the sting of tears in her eyes and she jumped on Jiro. She knocked him to the ground and formed a fireball in her hands.

 The fight ended there as a teacher came to break it up. Regret immediately washed over Izumi. Both students went to the headmaster who assured them that their parents would know about their fight. Her stomach tied itself into a knot that didn’t budge for the rest of the day. Her father would be disappointed in her. He warned her about controlling her temper. _But no matter how angry he is, he wouldn’t hurt me, would he?_

The question spun around in her mind the rest of the day. She couldn’t remember a thing she learned in her classes. She told herself she was being ridiculous. Her father wouldn’t hurt her, right? He loved her. But maybe that was what her father told himself when Ozai burned him. Maybe Ozai was an alright father up until his son disappointed him. Maybe Jiro was right.

The question hadn’t left her mind when school let out. As she left the building, she was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn’t notice who had turned up to pick her up from school.

“Izzy!” a woman called from the gate.

Izumi looked up to see her Aunt Kiyi waving at her by the royal carriage. A smile grew on her face and she sped up to greet her aunt. Maybe there was some hope after all. Aunt Kiyi was much more easygoing than her usual handler. Maybe she could convince her aunt to leave before the headmaster got a chance to talk with her.

“Whoa, what’s the hurry, girl?” Aunt Kiyi asked, as Izumi jumped into the carriage.

“Just excited to see you,” Izumi said. It wasn’t a complete lie. She did enjoy her aunt surprising her at school. “When did you get back from Omashu?” Kiyi was a cultural ambassador for the Fire Nation and spent a lot of time traveling all over the world. Usually, Kiyi’s interest in her aunt’s work was genuine. Right now, she just wanted to get Kiyi talking and get away from school as fast as possible.

“Hold that thought, Firecracker,” Kiyi said, peering through the crowd of students. “I think your headmaster is wants to talk to me.”

No, that was it. It was all over. She watched as Kiyi went over the where the headmaster stood, waving her over. Kiyi’s lips fell into a hard line as she listened to what the headmaster had to say. They finished their conversation and Kiyi returned to the carriage. She slid in and gave Izumi a knowing look.

“So, you got in a fight?” Kiyi asked, her “fun aunt” persona now gone.

Izumi crossed her arms and pouted as she looked out the window.

“Want to tell me about it?” Kiyi tried again.

Izumi stayed silent.

“Maybe, if I know your side of the story, it’ll help when I go to tell your dad.”

“Or, here’s a thought,” Izumi said. “What if you don’t tell my dad?” She hated when this happened. She hated when Aunt Kiyi stopped being her friend and started being a grown up. When Izumi got in trouble, Kiyi always ended up on her father’s side. Why couldn’t she, for once, be on her side?

“You know I have to tell him.” Izumi…

“Who’s side are you on?” Izumi demanded.

“There are no sides.” Kiyi put on a soft smile that made her look like grandmother. “We’re all family.”

“But what about-” Izumi suddenly stopped herself. She didn’t want to talk about it. Kiyi told Firelord Zuko everything. What if she told him Izumi knew about the scar? What if she told him Izumi was afraid he might do that to her? What if he got mad? What if he did it anyway?

“What about what?” Kiyi asked.

Izumi didn’t answer. She curled up on the seat and leaned against the window. Kiyi wouldn’t understand. Her father was Grandpa Noren. He wasn’t even a firebender. He couldn’t burn anyone unless he decided to get fancy with a torch. Still, she wondered if Kiyi knew, somehow. Did she know what Firelord Ozai did to his son? “Kiyi… were you around when Ozai was Firelord?” Izumi asked, the words coming out slow and quiet.

“I’d been born, if that’s what you mean. I don’t really remember his reign, though. I was pretty young.” Kiyi looked grave, a rare expression on her face. “Did someone say something to you about him? Is that why you got in a fight?”

Izumi stayed silent. She didn’t say anything the rest of the way back to the palace. Kiyi makes a few more attempts to get her to talk, but nothing works. As soon as they walked through the large, ornate doors of the palace, Izumi darted away from Kiyi. She raced down the halls, not quite knowing where she was going. She just knew she didn’t want to be around when Kiyi told her father about the fight.

Normally, when she was feeling sad or scared, she’d go to her father. If he was away at a summit, she’d find Grandma, or Grandpa Noren, or Kiyi, or Great Uncle Iroh. Sometimes, Uncle Aang might even be around to talk to. None of them were options now. Uncle Aang was at his home on Air Temple Island, Great Uncle Iroh had passed away last year, and everyone else would be on her fahter’s side. What if he was like Ozai? What if he hurt her? What if they couldn’t stop him? What if they didn’t want to stop him?

She made a turn and found herself in the hall of past Firelords. It was where the portraits of all known Firelords hung. She slowed as she passed them. Serious faces glared down at her. She came to Firelord Tatsuya, known mainly for his work regulating dragon breeding and preserving their natural habitat. Then came Firelord Renzo. He was an unlikely Firelord, given that he was the third son, but a deadly plague wiped out his two older brothers and he took the throne instead. He was known for presiding over medical reform which helped stop similar plagues from spreading. After him came Firelord Shinta, who ruled during a time of scientific discovery and innovation. He encouraged the advancement of technology and removed loopholes in labor laws and stopped nobles and the rich from taking advantage of the poor.

She looked at their faces and noticed that, apart from a few known war heros, none of them bore any scars. In fact, not even the war heros had scars like her father. Perhaps there was hope. Perhaps the Firelords weren’t as harsh as they looked.

But then she came the War Monger Lords, as they came to be called. Debate still raged to this day over whether or not their portraits should be taken down. Her father settled it years ago by leaving the portraits up, but with plaques placed alongside them declaring them war criminals and disgraces to their nation. He said it was important to remember what they’d done and what they had to atone for. Let them serve as a reminder of what chaos and destruction a lust for power can bring. People still argued over whether or not this was the right decision, but for now, this was how they stayed.

First was Firelord Sozin, known for starting the 100 year war and committing near-complete genocide against the airbenders. After him came Firelord Azulon, who can be credited with the majority of the conquest of the Earth Kingdom and imprisonment of the Southern Water Tribe waterbenders. These feats of course included the slaughter of countless civilians from both nations. Finally, there was Firelord Ozai. Shortest reign in recent history at seven years. He was known for the fall of Omashu, the fall of Ba Sing Se, and the attempt to use Sozin’s Comet to commit genocide against the earthbenders. He was defeated by Avatar Aang before he reached any populated areas, thankfully, and imprisoned as a war criminal by Firelord Zuko.

He was also her grandfather. She never knew him. He died in an escape attempt shortly before she was born. A group of radical Ozai loyalist broke him out of prison. Her father, aunts, and uncles closed in on him before he could get very far out of the city. He chose to take poison rather than be captured again.

So much tragedy. So much heartache caused by her family. Three generations was all it took to tear the world apart. Their family’s reputation as innovators and justice seekers turned to that of power-lust and evil. Why should her father be any different? He’d come from three generations of tyrants. Wasn’t that how he was taught? How he was meant to rule?

She stopped at Ozai’s portrait and stared up at it. He looked like her father. Same long, dark hair, same sharp face, same piercing gold eyes. What else was did they have in common?

“Izumi!”

She turned to see her father sweeping down the hall toward her. He was dressed in full regalia, apparently having come from a meeting with high ranking officials, one of the few occasions he got so formal for. Unlike past Firelords, he disregarded such formalities on a day-to-day basis, especially around his friends and family. But today, with his booming voice and harsh expression, he fit right in with the portraits on the wall.

He stopped in front of her, arms crossed and looking down at her with a stern expression. “What happened at school? Kiyi told me you started a fight. Explain yourself.”

Normally, Izumi would argue that it was Jiro’s fault. She’d tell him that Jiro provoked her and what the boy said about her mother. Instead, she stayed silent, staring up at her father. Standing in front of Ozai’s portrait, their resemblance couldn’t be ignored, not while the severe expression on her father’s face matched the tyrant in the painting.

“Izumi,” he demanded again, “I told you to explain.”

“I… I…” She couldn’t continue, couldn’t’ think of what to say. She couldn’t sulk and complain like a normal child, not when her father was Firelord. She’d been playing with fire all those years, all those times she tried to argue her way out of punishments. Now she knew what a Fire Lord could do, what he might be willing to do.

Her father’s expression softened. He glanced at the portrait behind him and a slight cringe tugged at his lips. “Izumi…” he said in the gentle tone that used to calm her fears.

It didn’t help her now. Was it a real? Was it a trick? Even if he was genuinely kind now, would he turn on her later? Maybe Ozai was kind too, once. She didn’t want to stick around to find out. “I-I’m sorry,” she squeaked out before tearing down the halls. She heard him call after, but she didn’t stop. She ran all the way to her room, closed the door, and didn’t come out until supper.

She wouldn’t have come out even then if Kiyi hadn’t come to see her. “Come on out, Firecracker,” Kiyi had said. “If you don’t come to dinner, you won’t get to hear about my Omashu trip.”

Izumi did love hearing about Kiyi’s journeys around the world, and she didn’t want to go hungry, after all.  So, she met her family for dinner. Her father didn’t bring up the fight again, which she was grateful for. He only looked at her with a concerned expression. Grandmother and Grandpa Noren looked worried as well. He made a few attempts to talk to her, but Izumi only gave shy, one-word answers. It was a good thing Kiyi just got back from her trip and had so much to talk about. Otherwise, dinner would be even more awkward than it already was.

After dinner, she went to her room to hide the rest of the night. Both Kiyi and her grandparents came by to check on her. They all asked what was wrong, but she never answered. Her father came in last. She pretended to be asleep.

[-]

Somehow, she escaped punishment. She imagined it had to do with the fact that she avoided her father as much as she could over the next few days. It wasn’t very hard during the day. She had school and firebending training while he had a country to run. Supper was the hardest as she always ate with her family, but dodging his questions and shying away from his gaze sufficed. She’d then spend the evenings in her room, using homework as an excuse. By the time he came in to say good night, she’d already put herself to bed.

After about 3 days of this, however, he became unavoidable.

She waited in the training room for her master. Already, she knew something was off. Master Aiko was never late. In fact, Izumi was usually the one being scolded for tardiness. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised when her father walked in instead.

“Where is Master Aiko?” Izumi asked, trying to mask her nerves.

“I told her to take the day off.” He smiled easily and crossed his arms over his training tunic. “I wanted to train with you today.”

Izumi stepped back and tried to untie the knot in her stomach.

Her father’s face faltered slightly, but soon returned to his relaxed smile. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve been working on?”

“Okay…” Izumi started through the set she’d been learning. She caught her first mistake on her first move. Her fire came out weak. She bit her lip and tried the next move. Another misstep and another weak flame. She stumbled through the rest of the set. It felt like she was tripping on her own nerves. Her insides twisted up a little bit more with every mistake.

When it was finally over, Izumi looked to her father who wore that same concerned look on his face. “That was…close,” he said through his cringe. “Those sets can be tricky, though. Every move flows into the next. I know it can be hard to get back on track.”

Izumi nodded, avoiding his gaze. She’d done this set nearly perfectly dozens of times before. Why did she have to screw it up so bad in front of him? _Maybe his firebending was so weak during the Agni Kai that it was an embarrassment to the royal family. Maybe that’s why Ozai scarred him._

“Maybe a demonstration would help,” her father suggested.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Any other day, she would have been delighted. She used to beg him to let her watch him train. He was known as a powerful bender and his dragon fire technique was famous the world over. Izumi took every opportunity see it. But that was before she knew what Ozai, another powerful bender, had done to him.

“Stand back, Izumi. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her fear slowly began to fade. _Okay, so if he didn’t want me to get hurt, he isn’t going to scar me today._ She did as she was told and stepped out of the training ring as he stepped in. He took a long slow breath and began. He went through the set flawlessly, which was to be expected. He was a master, after all, and this was a beginner level set.

His fire burned bright and hot and Izumi fought not to tremble at its power. What must it be like to be on the receiving end of it? To see it rushing toward you? To feel the heat and pain as it seared your flesh?

Her father looked at her and frowned. Did he see the fear in her eyes? Did he know what she was thinking? Did he think she was a coward?

“Izumi, it’s alright. I know fire can be intimidating, but there’s more to it than that,” He said, walking toward her. He knelt down beside her and formed a fireball in his hands. “Here, look closer.”

The fire flickered and wisps of different colors danced in the flames. It was dragon fire, the most powerful known to man. He kept it under firm control and held it away from her, but she could still feel its heat on her face. The dragon fire used to dazzle her, but now it was close, too close. Her father began saying something about fire’s connection to life, but she couldn’t focus on his words. All she could think of was the fire in his hand rushing toward her face, burning her flesh to the bone.

Without thinking, she pushed him away and tore down the hall. He called after her, but she didn’t hear his footsteps behind her. She looked back over her shoulder, not sure what to expect. Her father watched her from the doorway. He didn’t look angry or frightening. In his eyes, he looked hurt.

[-]

Izumi stayed in the gardens the rest of the afternoon, careful not to be too out in the open. She tucked herself under a willow and hid if anyone walked by. She didn’t want anyone to see her there. For one thing, the Crown Princess of the Fire Nation cowering in fear behind plants was just stupid. For another, someone might tell her father where she’d gone.

Perhaps he was even angrier with her now that she’d run from her own firebending lesson. What if he thought she was afraid of fire? Would he think she was a disgrace too? Ozai thought father was a disgrace too. _But he didn’t look angry._

Izumi had seen pictures of her father when he was young, mostly in artists’ depictions of the famous team which brought an end to the 100 year war. She tried to imagine him even younger and scarless, looking up at his own father with fear in his eyes as a stream of fire rushed toward his face. Was he afraid like she was? Did he know this might be coming someday? Or had it been as much a shock to him as it was to her?

 “I just don’t know what to do,” she heard her father say. His voice came from the walkway. Realizing she was too exposed under the willow, she jumped into a near-by bush.

“I thought training with her might help. She used to love when we trained together, but she ran off again,” he continued. “It’s like she’s afraid of me.”

“You said she got in a fight at school?” Grandma Ursa asked.

“Yes, but that’s not what worries me. Kiyi said she asked about Ozai.”

“I see.” Grandma Ursa took a long pause before asking “What did she want to know?”

“She just asked Kiyi if she was around when Ozai was Firelord. Kiyi told her she never met him. I think the kid she got in a fight with brought him up.”

“And she knows Ozai is dead, right? That he can’t hurt her?”

“Of course, and even if he was, I’d never let him touch her. What if she’s not afraid of Ozai hurting her?” Their footsteps died and his voice went quiet. “What if she’s afraid that I…”

“You are not your father,” Grandma Ursa said firmly.

“I know and I never want to be,” her father went on. “I thought she knew that. I thought she knew I’d never hurt her, that I’d protect her from anything.”

Their footsteps stopped and Grandma Ursa paused for a long time before answering. “Children learn new things about the world every day,” she finally said, carefully picking her words. “Some of what they learn scares them and they need to be reassured that they are loved and they have someone safe to go to. That’s something I wish I’d done a better a job of when you and Azula were young.”

“Mom…”

“At least now I can make sure you do better,” she went on. “Talk to her. Tell her that whatever she’s afraid of, you’ll be there to help her through it.”

“What if I’m, what she’s afraid of?” Her father’s voice was soft. He almost sounded like a child himself. “What if she thinks I could be like him?”

“Zuko, you are nothing like him,” Grandma Ursa said. Izumi recognized that tone of voice. She’d used it with Izumi countless times to chase the nightmares away. Specifically, Izumi remembered a time when her father was away at a summons in the Earth Kingdom. She had a nightmare that his airship crashed and ran to his room to find him. Grandma Ursa found her crying in her father’s empty room and managed to sooth her back to sleep with her kind words and comforting tones.  

“Ozai would never be worried about this,” she continued. “He would never wonder what would be the right thing to say, how to make sure his child felt safe with him. He never knew love. He only knew fear. You’ve shown Izumi what a father’s love looks like. Her eyes may be clouded by fear right now, but if you help her face it, she’ll see you again.”

Izumi peaked out of the bushes and saw Grandma Ursa holding her father close. He held her back gently. He was always gentle with Grandma, just like he was always gentle with her.

[-]

That night, as Izumi went to bed, she waited for her father to come in as usual. She sat up in her bed, eyes open, watching the door. It was finally time, she’d decided. She would finally ask her father the question she’d been turning over in her mind for days. _He said he’d never hurt me. He said he’d protect me._ _Grandma Ursa said he’s nothing like Ozai. He loves me._

He heard a knock on her doorframe and there he was. “Izumi?” her father asked. She gave him a half smile to let him know he could come in. He half-smiled in return and crossed the room. “Izumi, I want to talk to you,” he said, sitting on the end on her bed. “I know you’ve been afraid and I know you have questions about Ozai. I want you to know that I love you and you never have anything to fear from me. If there’s something you’re worried about, you can ask me and I’ll always help you.”

Her heart twisted out of nerves, but she couldn’t think of a good reason why. _It’s just Dad,_ she reminded herself. _He’s not Ozai._ “Dad?” Izumi began, twisting the blanket in her hands. “Is it true about your scar? Did your father hurt you?”

Her father let out a long, sigh before answering. “It’s true,” he said, his voice growing dour and quiet. He closed his eyes as if imagining that day in his mind. “I spoke out against a cruel plan he approved of, and he took this as disrespect. He ordered me to fight an agni kai and I accepted, thinking I was meant to fight the general. Instead, I was supposed to fight Ozai. I was just a child then, not much older than you. I knew I couldn’t fight him. I begged for his forgiveness, but he burned my face instead.” Her voice gained a slight edge and he gripped the side of the bed. “It was cruel and it was wrong. It’s an inexcusable thing to do to a child.”

“So, you wouldn’t do that to me?”

His eyes flew open at the question. “No, never. I love you,” he said as he reached out and smoothed her hair back, gentle as always. “There’s nothing you could do or say that would make me want to hurt you.”

Izumi wanted to smile, but her insides twisted up even more. She still had one more question to ask and it was much harder than the first two. “Not even…after what happened to mom?”

“What?”

“She died when I was born.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she turned away from him. “You don’t hate me for…” The tears took over and before she knew it, she was gathered in her father’s arms.

“Izumi, listen to me,” he said, gentle but firm. “I love you and your mother loves you too. Her death was a tragedy, but it is not your fault. Before you were born, you were all she talked about. She liked to guess what you’d be like and what you’d enjoy. Your mother loved you already, and I promise she loves you now.”

His words only made her cry harder, but it felt good. It felt like the stress and worries she put herself under were washing away. She clung to her father’s robes an snuggled in closer to his chest. He felt warm and smelled somewhat like ash, but more like from a campfire or fireplace than from a burning building. It was a familiar sensation. It was comforting, safe. Why shouldn’t he be? He was her father.

“Do you want to tell me where all this came from?” he asked when her tears had slowed.

“I had a fight with Jiro at school. He told me how you got your scar. He said you were probably going to do that to me someday because of mom.”

“Jiro is wrong,” he said firmly. “My father was a cruel man. It’s true. I decided a long time ago that I would never be who my father was. Our people deserved a better leader and my children would deserve a better father. Our family did terrible things for three generations, but the important thing to remember is that we are not them.” He lifted her chin to face him and flashed her a strong smile. “We are who we choose to be.”

Izumi smiled back, the last of her tears dying on her cheeks. Her father had a lot of accomplishments in his life. He helped end the 100 Year War, established Republic City, and reigned over the longest period of peace the world had seen in a century. People often remarked she must be proud of all her father had done. But in this moment, she was simply proud that he was her father.

She threw herself back into his arms and hugged him around his neck. “Dad?”

“Yes?” A small laugh wove through his voice.

“I’ve decided. I want to be like you.”


End file.
